Now the camera's on
by Prosper-the-XVIII
Summary: There were quite a few things that Effie could have gone her life without doing. Breaking her ankle on national television - no thanks whatsoever to Caesar Flickerman - was one of them. However...after she had gotten over the embarrassment and inability to wear high heels, she had to admit to having quite enjoyed the aftermath...CaeFie, because I'm allergic to normal OTPs


On the nights leading up to the Hunger Games, as the tributes were being trained and scored, the arena prepared and the Capitol suitably bedecked in reminders not to miss the Games - the sixty-ninth this time round - the nation had to be entertained. This meant that everyone's favourite TV presenter was up to his waxed armpits in rehearsals, scripts and interviews with people he didn't even know existed without any prior knowledge of the subject. He was charismatic, he was terrifyingly good-looking and no one had a freaking clue just how goddamn old he was. Of course, he was none other than The Capitol's very own Caesar Flickerman.  
The set lights glaring into his eyes, his longish cerulean-blue ponytail rigid in place with just about every hair product he could name and that trademark dazzling smile fixed on his face, Caesar raised his arms to the audience as if inviting an embrace, revelling in the applause that erupted from the audience. "Hello everybody, and welcome to the eve of...THE SIXTY-NINTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES!" They continued clapping and cheering; mic in hand, Caesar sat back down in order to shut them all up. As much as he adored the attention, he had to get on with the show. "Ha, ha, thank you everybody! Now joining us, we have several veeeery special guests on for you tonight, including our very own President Snow!" The mention of the president's name brought about several 'oohs' and 'aaas' from the delighted audience, draped in Capitolian finery of every imaginable colour. "But first of all, who knows what's so important about District 12's tributes this year? That's right, ladies and gents, tributes Briar and Clarke Hargreaves are in fact twins! Odds weren't exactly in their favour, were they?" Caesar chuckled throatily, just realising how sadistic what he had just said was after the audience's laughter had subsided. "Anyway, here to have her moment in the spotlight, we have out newest escort, who knows exactly how that day went down! She's young, she's classy and my god, is she a beauty, give it up for Effie Trinket!" Flaunting a peacock-blue calf-length dress, heelless wedges about three inches high, meticulously curled wig in platinum blonde and heavily jewelled choker, Effie beamed a radiant smile, displaying perfect whit teeth from between her silvery lips. "Hello, Effie, can I just say you're looking fabulous tonight?"  
"Oh, Caesar, stop it!" Effie twittered, still smiling. "It is an absolute pleasure to be here."  
"It's a pleasure to have you, Effie," the pair were still standing, and as he offered out a hand to Effie as he himself took a seat once again, he began absentmindedly cracking on with the interview. "So, Effie, could you tell us a little more about-" he was cut off by a short, sharp cry from Effie. He realised too late that he had been too abrupt in sitting back down, as in the process pulled her to the floor.  
The studio was large enough to fit several thousand Capitolians, but it echoed incredibly loudly, so consequently everyone had heard the revolting crack of Effie's ankle as it had viciously twisted in the process of her little tumble. The crowd simultaneously grimaced, hissing and murmuring in Effie's sympathy.  
"Oh...oh my, Effie, are you alright?"  
"F-fine..."'Effie stammered through a cry of pain as she tried to stand up again.  
"Oh, erm, that doesn't look too good," he took in her twisted foot, which was already swollen and bruising. "Are you sure you don't want to leave to go and see someone? I'm sure that the lovely ladies and gents over here would be very understanding," there was some sort of noise indicating agreement emanating from the horde of people.  
"I'm fine, truly..." Effie sharply breathed out as she eventually picked herself up and lowered herself into the seat. "Happens all the time, it'll be nothing." Caesar was willing to bet his bottom dollar on Effie's leg being fractured but he didn't have the heart to tell her that she ought to go. From her face, it was so obvious that she knew she was in tremendous pain that was signifying something much worse than a common-or-garden twisted ankle, but she wasn't going to let that spoil this.  
Like an absolute trooper, Effie stuck out the rest of the interview despite the obvious pain and discomfort her leg was causing her. At the end of it, Caesar finished it the way he always did; helping her up, kissing her hand, urging the crowd to say goodbye and then allowing her to make her own way offstage. She was limping very badly, not putting pressure on her right foot at all. As soon as she'd exited, Caesar stood up again. "Well, wasn't she an absolute treat, folks? I'll be back in a few minutes, but stick around. Later I'll be chatting to the President about the inner story of the Games and finding out what goes on behind the scenes with gamemaker Florean Minaj!" And with that, Caesar sprinted offstage.  
TO BE CONTINUED…


End file.
